


Ripped and Torn

by Mamabot (JeanFi)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, Shockwave/Soundwave brothers, drunken body building exhibition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanFi/pseuds/Mamabot
Summary: Poor Shockwave. Sneaky dastardly Soundwave. Silly Scrapper. Tasty Thundercracker. Sexy Cyclous.and uggg... Thrust.A workout room, a case of STRONG high grade (maybe 2 cases), some randy femmes, and one poor mech who lost a bet with his brother.  Some how, he's suuuuure Soundwave cheated. But he is a mech of honor.  Well, his honor might be shredded when the one he silently pines for catches them all and ups them with one armed pushups.This is a gift here on A03 for all of you who have posted fun-sexy oneshots that I have so enjoyed but have only the courage to leave a 'hit' or kudo for.
Relationships: Cyclonous/OC, Shockwave/Megatron (one sided)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Ripped and Torn

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I originally wrote this on Deviantart Jan 2016, but thought I should share it here for all you lovelies who have often made my night on A03 amusing.
> 
> I hope Kesha and Hasbro don't mind?

  
~~~~~  
"No no no, you're doing it all wrong. Like this: curl and **UH!** \- {thrust.} Got it?"  
  
"I'm not doing this," the mono-optic scientist turns away. He makes it two steps when the recruiter hooks a claw to the back collar ring of the escaping mech. The gasp and cough from the mech is very uncharacteristic of him. But at least he didn't squeak in horror.  
  
Thundercracker thrusts a high-grade cube into the clawed hand and smirks, "A few of these help."  
  
Sure he shoots the drink down his throat, and shakes his head to the burn, but he's still with it, "No, I'm not."  
  
The training ground is scattered with clusters and pockets of soldiers. Nemesis never actually takes a day off per-se, but there are down days where less activity happens. No trainings scheduled, no battles planned. Someone is always on duty. Stations always have to be monitored, but it's not an average day.  
  
How the hell he got here now, he will never know. But here he is. In the northeast corner of the training ground is lined with mirrors on the north and east walls. A place to practice your strikes and see your movements when working alone.  
  
But right now, the mirrors have a purely vane reason. Vanity is NOT one of the words one would use to describe Shockwave. More like humble and shy. And right now, he's shooting the second cube down that Thundercracker is too easily handing to him. His snow white antenna shoot forward to the air commander. Just why is he trying to ply him with intoxicating drink?  
  
Scrapper has managed to get Thundercracker, Soundwave, Thrust and Cyclonous into this corner. With Cyclonous' help, Scrapper conned and cohersed Shockwave out of his lab and into this corner. Now, the single optic purple mech is so wishing he had never rolled out of his berth. He should have pulled the covers over his head -like Plan A- and feigned exhaustion. But noooo, he just had to check on his experiments and that's where they hoodwinked him.  
  
Shit.  
  
"Come on TC-  
"Don't call me that!" the royal blue flyer snaps back.  
"Fine, Commander Thundercracker, show us how it's done."  
  
He shoots down his own fourth shot and peals off pieces of his armor, flexing his wings. Scrapper and Thrust already have themselves stripped to the waist. Greaves and pede armor aren't important to this exercise.   
  
It's not uncommon for the training ground to contain half dressed training soldiers. Sometimes it's just a matter of technique not weight of armor. And besides, sometime's it's just and all out wrestling match and hooking your claws into someone's armor is cheating. So here are now three of the six mechs stripped to the waist, rolling their necks, flexing their shoulders and pecks.  
  
Shockwave is more than aware that the gathering in the northwest corner and even the southeast corners have acquired more … spectators.  
  
"Oh Primus, I need to leave." He tries to head out again, but this time, Soundwave hooks his elbow.  
  
"Stay. Enjoy."  
Shockwave looks to his fellow officer and shakes his head, "This is insane. Illogical."  
"Good for moral."  
"Moral? To show off like whores on a street corner? No."  
"A show of strength and self confidence."  
  
Oh now that was a low blow. The TIC and communications officer retracts his face guard and is actually grinning before he downs his sixth shot.  
"You evil bastard! You came up with this, didn't you?"  
  
Soundwave shrugs ever so lightly, "Not as far as anyone would notice. For I am not vane."  
"Bullshit!"  
  
Just for that, the violet one, yanks the TIC off his seat and shoves him before Scrapper. The face plate snaps over the horrified expression. Pounding a pointed claw in the player's chest, Shockwave baits, "Fine, you want me to do this, then he does it." With that, cocks his head to the side in challenge.  
  
Keeping his visored face locked on the single enraged golden one, the TIC easily strips his upper torso of armor.  
  
Cheers go up from the northwest corner, "Whhhooo-hoo. Take it off Soundwave! Show us what you got!"  
  
A jaunt to the helm, tells them he heard them and accepts their compliment. And then bends slightly at the waist to strip his greaves. He just upped the ante. Pelvic plates and helm are all that remain of his armor. In a slow lunge, keeping his face locked on the scientist, curls his fisted wrist down low to show the bulge of his bicep.  
  
"Holy crap!" Thundercracker gasps. He had no idea the near silent mech knew how to do this.  
  
Standing up, Soundwave passes the challenge to the purple one. The antenna wilt. Oh he really didn't think Soundwave would do this. Fuck. Now his honor is at stake. Shit.  
  
Thundercracker quickly shed his own greaves. There's no way he's going to let the sturdy mech's thighs out do his. A few hoops and hollers come out from the south east corner, "Ohhh Thunder' let me fly away with you."  
  
Curling his chin over his shoulder, flicks his wings and flashes his smile to his admirers. Then gives them a shimmy of his aft. More whoops.  
  
Scrapper is delighted. This is coming out far far better than he ever anticipated. "Alright mechs, lets go."  
  
Arrogant Thrust is preparing to chuck the pelvic plates as well, but Scrapper puts a hand on that, "No. This my be an exhibition, but it's not a porn show. Keep it PG-17, 'kay? After all we do have officers who can and will stuff us in the brig."  
  
"Party pooper."  
Scrapper shakes his head, "Have you no shame?"  
"Nope. Hence my name?"  
"Oh Primus," Scrapper rolls his optics.  
"Check these out, mechs and femmes," with that, rotates his hips clad only in scanty-black strips. Turning to the show, shows his g-string plate. His cheeks are all hanging out. The reaction is mix of oohs and ewws.  
  
Cyclonous has been a bit more reserved, but now strips himself. Not a broad as Scrapper (a larger mech all around as is the function of construction workers.) Nor is he as air streamed as Thundercracker. The flyer is trim, but by no means, skinny. Oh no, every piece of the mech is well muscled and toned, he's just not burly. His skill is light on his pede vs. Scrapper's brute force. Both bodies to be reckoned with. Both will kill you in a fight.  
  
Now Soundwave's broad chest tapering to slightly narrower hips and firm solid thighs. A very mechly muscled hourglass. No gentle curves though. Cyclonous, now stripped finds himself in between several of these forms. Warrior shoulders, between Soundwave and Thundercracker. A good mixture of brute force and swift strikes. Trim waist and hips allow him to take the punches in the gut or curl out of their way. Evasion. His thighs strong enough to climb his foe and slice them open, or fast enough to strike them before they know it.  
  
Curling his shy face, he catches the flush of one femme in particular. Only she knows what lies beneath his own black pelvic (fully aft covered) plate. Only she knows how to bend his body in ways no one would expect possible. He winks to her, and then slowly curls his back to the audience, his mate in particular. He know this one makes her wet herself. He cants his helm ever so slightly to give her her only warning. Her emerald optics go wide and swallows hard. Gripping his wrist at his lower back, pushes. The cables in his back, biceps and forearm tighten. She's seen him tighten those muscles in holding himself back while making love to her. Her lips are wetted.  
  
Whoops and hollers go out, he hears none of it. He only hears the message her spark is pummeling his with. In fact, turning, he shows her how it flares, light seeping through the plate seems. Her femme friends lean into her as she flushes. Clearly, that is his most attractive attribute: devotion to his mate.  
  
Scrapper chuckles, "Fine, make us all look bad for having a mate and the rest of not being able to snag one."  
To which, Cyclonous allows himself a prideful smirk and then blows her a kiss.  
  
"Awwww…" eeeps out of every corner of the room. He steps back and downs another drink.  
  
Thrust shakes his goods again, "Psha! Who needs one! Who wants to tumble with this?" A few squeems go out, and a few more groans and ewws.  
  
Thundercracker shakes his head at the flyer's lack of decorum. Shockwave knows he's not off the hook. He's stuck. In hell… and then some. "Give me a double shot," he tells the air commander. The Seeker's optics go wide and does as requested. Shockwave dowses his anxiety with the toxic drink. The buzz hits.  
  
Shaking himself out, he plucks his gauntlet and flicks it into the pile of other shed armor. Then some just has to crack on the music. He looks over to the culprit and snarls. Not Frenzie playing the music, but his superior who order it. He flips him one clawed finger. Soundwave chuckles to the threat and downs his drink leaning against the wall. He wants to see his brother tear it off in complete humiliation.  
  
Thrust, now energized by both the crowd and the drink, begins whooping it up. "Come on Shockwave, don't be such a prude." Then he strides out like a MC at a show and raises his arms riling up the crowd, "Alright! Who wants to see what Shockwave hides?"  
  
Cheers go out. But two voices call it together, "Take it off! Take it off!" They start the chant. And then it quickly changes.  
The sliver femme winks and leads the, "Take it off!'  
The blue one lifts the other half of the crowd, "Shockwave"  
  
So the two halves of the training grounds begin to pound it out back and forth with the chorus:  
"TAKE IT OFF!!"  
"SHOCK-WAVE"  
  
The high grade finally takes it's toll on the mech. Humiliation set aside, Frenzie starts the song again. Giving the audience his broad back and tight narrow aft, curls the clawed hand over his back, and pops the cannon cable loose. Cheers go into the show. Raising the heavy cannon over his head (not an easy feat to the average soldier) slowly releases the catches with an equally slow gyration to his narrow hips.  
  
 _There's a place down town where the freak all come around  
It's a hole in the wall, a dirty free for all  
Take it off_  
  
Cyclonous anticipates the next action, thanks to a look from the golden optic and drops to a one kneed crouch, on the side as Shockwave swiftly brings the cannoned arm down in a slicing motion. The cannon slides off the halved arm into Cyclonous awaiting arms. Keeping the half-arm straight, the other clawed hand cups the back of his helm, giving a forward upper-thrust of his pelvis. The move Scrapper was correcting the others on earlier… he nails perfectly.  
  
Cheers erupt even though they only saw it from the back. Still sexy, even more so NOT seeing the cod in motion. Scrapper claps to the successful move with a twist.  
  
 _When the dark of the night comes around  
That's the time that the animal comes alive  
Look'n for something wild  
Now we look'n like pimps in my gold transam.  
Got a water bottle full of whiskey in my hand bag  
Got my drunk text on  
Gonna regret it in the morn  
But for now I don't give a-_  
  
For that, now curls both hands down to the small of his back, close to Cyclonous' move. Arching back, flicks the claws underneath and the catches pop. The back plate falls to the ground. One more gyration of the hip, and a flick of the antenna. He flicks a light pede toe sending is scattering out of his way. Grace.  
  
Spreading the legs to a wider stance, bends down showing his flexibility. He can see them all through the V his stance has made. They can see his darkening golden optic. He flicks the antenna so they drop, nearly touching the floor. Reaching his hand & arm to the back of his thighs, cups and strokes them. Then slides to calves, flicks open the catches. Each greave comes loose and falls to the floor. Once more he rotates that aft driving the crowd nuts.  
  
"FUCK ME!! SHOCKWAVE!!" The blue and silver drunken femmes cry out together over the whoop of the crowd.   
  
The optic closes off, regretting this again. Rising too quickly, the world spins and he stumbles. Both Thundercracker and Soundwave quickly grasp him by the shoulders before he falls over.  
  
 _Chorus  
And they turn me on when they take it off  
Everybody take it off  
  
There's a place I know where they're look'n for a show  
Where they go hard core where there's glitter on the floor.  
They turn me on when they take it off_  
  
Soundwave snerks, "You aren't getting out of this so easily."  
"I hate you." The dazed purple one seethes.  
"I'm not the one who decided to put on a show!"  
"Fuck you."  
"You're not my type." And with that, steps back, blocking the exit. The antenna tip forward in aggression. The cheers go out again lead by two particular randy femmes.  
  
"Why me?" the show stopper groans.  
Thundercracker pats the back, "Believe it or not, the silent ones have quite a following." He shoots a gaze to both Soundwave and bonded Cyclonous.  
  
The crowd starts the chorus to the song again, "Take it off!"  
He turns to the front. Thundercracker hands him one more drink. Shockwave looks at it an knows if he swallows it, he will do something he regrets. Well, regret more. Instead he tells the lithe mech, "Just a second."  
  
With a final yank, pulls the whole front sections off in one move, and casts it aside like a towel. Then swipes the drink from the offered hand. Leaning back, pours it slowly down his throat. Not IN his throat, ON his throat. The drink slides down his chest and trickles into his pelvic plate.  
"Nice touch," Thundercracker applauds.  
"If I drink one more, I'm worthless." He cants the helm carefully, tossing the cube to Soundwave.  
  
 _Lose your mind, lose it now  
Lose your clothes in the crowd  
We're delirious tear it down  
'Till the sun comes back around_  
  
At this, he wraps a claw around the end of his remaining arm. Curling it out, raises them up. As he brings them down behind his helm, cocks one hip forward, arching the pede to a toe point and curls in a slow forward motion. Much the way he had slowly taken one of those femmes out there. He knows she is wetting herself again, wanting him again. But it won't happen. And she knows it…. Cursing, drowning in memory to his naked form slowly taking hers.  
  
"Damn, Shockwave! I had no idea you were such a chauvinist."  
With a final sharp thrust of his hip, curls his helm to the side and pierces the accuser, "You know nothing of me. And it shall remain that way."  
  
Thrust gapes to the scientist and Lord Megatron's most loyal soldier. Just for that, Shockwave gives three more sharp thrusts to the move Thrust had failed to perform at Scrapper's instructions. Yes a low blow to proving he can succeed in having any of these dripping femmes and being the mech of their wet dreams tonight, not the other purple mech.  
  
"Why you!!" Thrust tries to take a swing at Shockwave while his hands are still behind his neck.  
Shockwave curls down and twists his hip. Lifting the first peded off the floor, makes a perfect corkscrew 360 out of the fist's strike range and lands upright again. Straightening, chocks a hip in the aggressor's direction. Hip check. His current choice of weapon bringing the femmes (and a few mechs) to their knees.  
  
The cone head snarls  
  
 _Now we're getting so smashed Knock'n over trash cans  
Every body break'n bottles it's a filthy hot mess  
Time to get faded, I'm not the designated driver  
I don't give a_  
  
While the final chorus plays, Shockwave takes another drink. Soundwave lift his own in toast to Shockwave. Shockwave lifts his own cube in acceptance to the compliment, and downs the rest.  
  
 **"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!??"**  
  
All helms turn. Music stops instantly. Immediately all soldiers rise and give respect to their roaring and confused Lord. Shockwave yanks to ramrod straight, crossing his arm over his spark and lowers his helm. He knows he just can not bear to look a his liege right now. Humiliation among the troops is one thing, but his leader is just too much.  
  
Scrapper steps forward, respectfully but confidently, "My Lord, it was just a bit of… entertainment."  
  
"Entertainment? Care to elaborate?"  
Scrapper scratches his head trying to find the right answer. He just… can't. Megatron looks to the line of nearly stripped officers and the bottle of high grade. "This is illegal on the training grounds."  
"We weren't exactly training, sir."  
"Then what were you exactly doing?"  
"Ummmm…."  
  
Striding back and forth before his line of soldiers he examines them. The trickle of sweat down Shockwave's neck combined with the sticky residue of high grade on his chest really catches his attention. "Well Commander Shockwave, practicing for the Mr. Mech Universe contest?"  
  
Thrust coughs back his snort of laughter. Scrapper slaps him up the back of the helm.   
"Egging him on, Soundwave?"  
"Becoming an exhibitionist, Cyclonous?"  
"Learn any new moves, Thundercracker?"  
"Charging admittance, Scrapper?"  
  
And then he stands before Thrust, "Think you're so great now?" He grabs the chin and makes him face his leader, "Do you?"  
"N-no sir."  
  
With a flick of his hand, Cyclonous, Soundwave, Thrust and Thundercracker stand back against the wall. The silver helm smirks to the ring leader of this show, "Scrapper, come on. If you want it done right, ask an expert."  
  
With that flicks a finger for him to bring the high grade over. He guzzles down the remaining craft with a gasp. Flicking to Frenzie, tells him to bring on the music.  
  
Shockwave doesn't move too horrified about what is about to happen. Megatron inches one finger forward. Buzzed Shockwave complies. Clicking the scope loose, lays it out into Shockwave's awaiting arms. He has just been made his secret desire's armor barer.   
  
Shit.  
  
Megatron turns to the crowd curling his hands in the air, "I expect some of you are used to seeing me perform on the field. Well, now you get a rare one-time presentation."  
  
Shockwave steps back giving him room to perform. First, the silver mech bends over in a perfectly and plucks the grieves loose. With a flick, Shockwave has to flit right and left to catch them before they land. The bucket-like helm cants, "Nice move, Shockwave."  
  
Oh no, it's going to be a two mech show. Double shit.  
  
Gripping his red sides, lays his neck back exposing his throat. Shockwave can't hold back his moan. Luckily, it isn't heard over the whistles of the femmes. Megatron bends further back, letting the cod be the primary object of attention, whilst his palms slide down his aft and back-thighs. While there, Megatron rotates his own hips, getting a few more hollers… and a groan.  
  
Popping the catches to the calf plates, he hands them over one by one. Shockwave takes them with a shaking hand. Sliding down further, Megatron flips over landing on his belly on the floor. And then, crosses his ankles, and pushes up a few times. Then, with a hefty shove, unlatches the ankles to a wide stance and comes down to one arm. And then to Shockwave' furthering groan, flicks back and forth in one armed push ups in right and left.   
  
Rolling to his back, pulls the chest plate off. He flicks the piece like a Frisbee. With a graceful leap, Shockwave catches it earning a smile for his Lord.  
  
Planting his pedes down, flicks himself up, one leg at a time over his helm to a stand. The shoulders are shaken, and Shockwave has to kneel behind his leader to catch them in time as they fall like shedding scales. Perfect alignment to that gorgeous aft. The only piece of armor remaining.  
  
He can't decide if he wants that black panel to come off or stay on. What he does know, is if he stands up, his own strained inebriated cod will shoot off like a wayward rocket.  
  
From there Shockwave is in beautiful hell watching his lord and liege rile up his mass of soldiers. With Cyclonuous' back clench. Soundwave's forward lunge and bicep curl. Scrapper's show of fists to waist and thrust of broad powerful chest and spark. Even Thrust one armed Popeye move.  
  
By the time the song ends, there is no question who the champion of the Mr. Mech Universe is. Standing at the ready baring the sliver and black armor in his light bare arms, Shockwave watches the final move.  
  
His move.  
  
Megatron looks right at Shockwave, brings his own fully armed guns up beside his helm, latching the palms behind his nape. And thrusts.  
  
Shockwave keels over and passes out scattering silver armor everywhere.  
  
Megatron laughs to the over energized mech's folly. With a snark to Soundwave, "Ummm, I wonder, if we broadcast this, how many of Prime's femme soldiers will desert?"

**Author's Note:**

> I got shown a picture of Bay-version Shockwave posing like a body builder. Then someone introduced me to 'Take it Off'.
> 
> My husband (a non body builder) very much used to be able to do one armed pushups. 3 rotator cuff surgeries later (that had nothing to do with push ups) that is a thing of the past. So this is a bit of a memory of those from our younger sprier days.   
> And he wrote the last line of this. God I love him.


End file.
